


Adventurer

by HedwigHufflepuff



Category: Hilda (Cartoon)
Genre: Alfur Is Trying His Best, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Major Character Death (Sort of), S2EP8: The Fifty Year Night, Season 2 spoilers, What-If, no violence, the fifty year night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:48:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29153040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HedwigHufflepuff/pseuds/HedwigHufflepuff
Summary: In extraordinary circumstances, all Alfur can do is offer advice and hope for the best.Canon divergent from S2EP8 “The Fifty Year Night”.
Relationships: Alfur & Hilda (Hilda)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	Adventurer

Alfur scribbled frantically in his notebook atop Hilda’s head and tried to pretend that he wasn’t one paragraph from breaking down.

He looked down and found that he’d captured, verbatim, everything Tildy explained about the mechanics of time travel. It was his duty to know things and supply Hilda with whatever knowledge she might need, and his unpreparedness this time had been disastrous. Two Hildas were most likely dead. Two versions of himself were, too.

Alfur shook himself out of his thoughts just as Hilda was protesting, “It’s not fair! You’re clearly meant to be together.”

Tildy sighed. “Yes, but not like this. This was all our fault, and we should be the one to face the consequences.”

Mr Ostenfeld chuckled. “Besides, you are the only reason we are together in the first place. We have lived full lives thanks to you, Hilda. Right now, you’re so young, and have so much ahead of you.”

Tildy nodded along with her husband’s words. “Besides, how could I let Frida’s familiar sacrifice herself for me?”

It was rather grim logic, but Alfur couldn’t disagree. Though Hilda had made a mistake meddling with the past, it would be sheer injustice for her to suffer such a harsh fate. There were so many more adventures to be had! And hopefully, he’d be right there by her side the whole time.

 _‘Think of the future later_ ,’ he scolded himself. First, they had to survive the present.

Hesitantly, Hilda cleared her throat. In one hasty breath, she mumbled, “What about the other Hilda and Alfur?” 

‘ _The other Hilda and Alfur?’_ They had met a tragic fate, fifty years in the past. He was annoyed with himself for not realising how badly affected Hilda had been by the experience, but that didn’t explain why she had mentioned it now. Then, Hilda continued, “The ones still at home with Twig right now.”

Ah.

If they destroyed the magazine, the Time Worm would instead destroy everything related to the new timeline, which included the previously unmarried couple. That also meant… 

He and Hilda would doom another version of themselves to sudden, unexpected death.

Alfur’s ears drooped. Around the room, the adults bore similar looks of realisation and horror. Now he wished they’d never found out how to reverse the spell. At least then they wouldn’t have needed to _choose_.

Hilda, braver than him, made the decision. “I can’t let another innocent version of myself die. It’s like you said, Mr Ostenfeld, she has so much more to explore. I can’t take that away from her.”

Alfur protested, “Hilda, he was referring to _you_. You’ve got a lot to live for too!”

She scowled. “That may be true, but she deserves it more than me. At least she never caused this mess in the first place!”

That wasn’t true! He flipped through his mental filing cabinets for a counter-argument but came up short. Objectively, it was fairer for the one who had made the mistake to suffer the consequences, rather than passing it on to some unsuspecting version of Hilda.

Taking silence as a form of agreement, Hilda continued her speech. “I get it now. What Mum said, about actions having consequences. I can’t expect everything to end perfectly, and when they don’t…” she paused, straightening her posture. “I have to take responsibility.”

Alfur sniffled. She had figured it out all on her own, without even any Disappointment Deferral and Responsibility-Sharing Agreements. He had been this close to forging her signature, considering how much grief Mum had suffered over Hilda’s reckless behaviour.

If only it hadn’t taken such drastic circumstances.

Hilda heard his indiscreet crying, of course, and interpreted it completely wrong. She brought her hand up for Alfur to climb on, and he realised that he’d been clutching her hair hard enough to hurt.

Once they were eye-to-eye, with him cupped in Hilda’s palms, her stubborn determination melted away. “Oh, Alfur, I’m so sorry. You were right, I should’ve never left the building, or even gone downstairs. And now you’ll never get back home, all because I didn’t listen to you!” 

He let the apology wash over him and chase away any lingering righteous anger. “Hilda, you don’t know how proud of you I am right now.”

She cast her eyes to the side. “I’m about to get both of us killed, Alfur! How is that something to be proud of?”

He waited until she was looking at him, and chose his words carefully. “I’m proud because although you made a mistake, once you found out you decided to take responsibility for your actions. Even at great personal cost to yourself. That’s a long way from the Hilda who didn’t even understand why she was grounded.”

“But you don’t deserve to die for my mistakes…” she whispered.

So that was the real matter at hand. In the privacy of his own mind, Alfur admitted that he agreed. But Hilda absolutely did not deserve to hear that, so he filed it away and instead reached up to touch her cheek. “I’m just glad that you don’t have to go through this alone.”

“Thank you,” Hilda said. And that was all Alfur needed to hear.

He pulled his gaze away from Hilda and took a good look at the world around. The married couple clutched each other on the sofa, distraught. The Tildy from their timeline was supporting herself on the lace-covered dining table. She had a double-handed, white-knuckled grip on her wand, which shot a continuous beam of harsh white light towards the far wall.

She’d given him and Hilda time.

As he watched, her grip slackened, causing the beam to flicker. Hoping to relieve her burden, Alfur locked eyes with her and whispered a _Thank you_ , too quiet to be heard yet perfectly clear.

The spell died completely. Alfur twisted around to look at Hilda because despite everything he still wasn’t brave enough to face death head-on. She was biting her bottom lip, staring resolutely ahead. Her grip on him was tense, but not crushingly so; as if she wanted to protect Alfur from their upcoming demise.

And suddenly, they were floating in a void.

He tried to parse the last few moments: the whistle of rushing wind, a disorienting loss of light, and a sensation passing into cool, still water.

Then he blinked, because _he was still alive_ , and better yet Hilda was still with him, and— this was unprecedented! Wonderful! Astonishing!

But she didn’t share his elation, looking past him with longing. Alfur let himself float out of Hilda’s protective grip and turned to see portals. Hundreds of them; points of light in the otherwise featureless darkness. Hilda was staring at a version of herself sitting in the living room, with Mum and Tontu. Their _Dragon Panic_ campaign was sprawled across the table, and Alfur spotted himself practically buried in its deliciously complicated rulebook. 

He looked away, but another portal caught his gaze. This one featured him, fearlessly jumping off a pigeon onto… Erik Ahlberg? His alternate self muttered something into a walkie-talkie and clung tightly as Ahlberg boarded a gargantuan, armoured dirigible. 

Alfur was assaulted by the possibilities, the could’ve-beens. Hilda riding Woffs with David and Frida. Himself standing between the Northern Counties and the Bragga clan, preventing a war. Hilda and Mum, navigating a sewer, dripping wet yet laughing. Alfur, again, inside a Water Spirit, interviewing what appeared to be Elven draugen. 

Then he heard an impossibility. Hilda, sobbing. 

He followed her gaze, expecting to see the same scene of _Dragon Panic_. But instead, the window of time offered a view of Hilda. _Adult_ Hilda.

She was in some remote wilderness— whether it was their Wilderness Alfur couldn’t tell. Her hair, still the same vibrant blue, whipped behind her like a royal banner, heralding Hilda’s presence. On her hip was a sword, which gleamed in the winter sun. And her steed was _Twig_ , far larger and far more majestic than Alfur ever could’ve imagined.

It wasn’t fair. 

His Hilda would never get to explore new unknowns. She would never watch Twig grow into his full majesty. She herself would never grow, trapped in this timeless void.

The sobs had slowly subsided. Upon twisting himself around, Alfur found Hilda floating quietly, her tears forming a loose halo of round droplets. Again, he was struck by how incredibly brave she was.

She caught him in her palm and offered him a wry smile. Addressed to both Alfur, the void, and possibly herself, she sighed:

“Such is the life of an adventurer.”


End file.
